There’s a funny thing that happens whenever you’re about to share something that you've put your entire self into: you get that funny feeling in your chest first.
Not fear. Just that familiar little tug you’ve had since as far back as you can remember. Back when you’d write something, draw something, think something, and then sit there wondering if you should show anybody at all.
And the wild part?
That feeling doesn’t disappear just because you’re grown now.
You can have a whole life, a job, a kid, a lane, a purpose… and still feel ten years old the moment you hit “publish.” You still feel that quick few seconds of, "... Okay, I’m doing this.”
People love to pretend that confidence erases that.
It doesn’t.
All confidence does is help you move with it instead of run from it.
Because when something is yours—your idea, your voice, your perspective—putting it out there hits different. You’re not nervous because you’re unsure. You’re nervous because the work comes from a real place within you. And as much as you want to share this masterpiece with everyone in the world, you also want to protect it from them.
But that thing you’re building? You’re doing it with intention. And intention comes with all the feels. It’s normal and it’s human. And it’s what separates the people who create from the people who copy.
If you ask me, your voice is the strongest when you feel that moment of hesitation and do it anyway. And deep down, you know that’s really your only choice.
Because you’re an artist. And you’re sensitive about your shit.
It just comes with the territory.
Just something to think about.
-Tee, Loud Thoughts Studio